ROLLS AND INFO
- Angelia leaving the lot the morning of day two — 8 (nothing)
- Roll for day two — 11 (mild sickness)
- (angelia only left because it was before 8am — when i roll for each new day.)
- Angelia leaving the lot the afternoon of day three — 2 (nothing)
- Roll for day four — 1 (nothing)
- Angelia leaving the lot the morning of day three — 25 (fail)
- Angelia leaving the lot an hour later — 13 (battle)
- Follow up roll — 3 (safe!)
- Colette leaving lot on day five — 2 (nothing)
- Roll for day six — 9 (nothing)
- Angelia leaving the lot the morning of day seven — 24 (new person)
- Follow up roll — 9 (engineer)
- (Because what I really need is one more handyman.)
- (I’m already out of things to upgrade.)
- (I’ll regret this if my generator breaks, but. . . not taking him.)
- (Wait that would make a good story.)
Things had been going great, they had a garden going, a season had almost passed by. Vicky had just discovered that she was pregnant–Jabari was taking that one a little bit hard. This wasn’t exactly the world he’d wanted to bring his babies into, but it was the best he could do now, he supposed. Vicky was over the moon.
Angelia was still leaving the lot almost daily–Colette’s anger about that had died off as she came back safely every day, although the worry never did drop off. One day when out and about, Angelia came across someone different. She’d gotten very use to the faces she always saw, although sometimes they disappeared and were replaced. The only real safe place was the church grounds.
But this one didn’t fit. He wasn’t from the town. He was backpacking when Angelia came across him, driving the church’s truck. He was yelling at her to stop for him–probably desperate, looking for somewhere safe in this wasteland. Angelia stopped for him, but kept the doors locked and only rolled down the window. “Please, do you have somewhere safe–”
“Where did you come from?”
“Out of town. It’s. . . worse out there. They seem to come from nowhere. . .”
“Have you met anyone else?”
“A group or two, but they were travelling, trying to find somewhere safe. There has been so much death.”
“Have you seen a man named Timothy Daigle?” Angelia’s voice kept cutting off the hitchhickers, her eyes a bit cold. Perhaps she was just being an emotional teenager, but her voice waived a little mentioning her father’s name.
“I don’t recall so, but chances are he’s gone. Everyone is. Please, can I–”
Angelia had stopped listening, her eyes turned ahead, looking at the silent road in front of her, things eerily quiet. Without another word, her foot hit the gas petal and she pulled away from the man, leaving him as he tried to wave her down, calling and calling after her.
The Sanctuary 